


In Bloom

by surveycorpsjean



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Camping, Multi, Polyamory, Sexual Content, art fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surveycorpsjean/pseuds/surveycorpsjean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lets go camping, they said. </p><p>It will be fun, they said. </p><p> //with art by <a href="http://screamingshark.tumblr.com/">screamingshark</a>//</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go man, ive been so hype about this collab

“Is this it?” Bokuto grips the headrest behind Akaashi’s head, and props himself up to look through the front windshield.

“I think so.” Akaashi stares at the map on his phone, turning it this way and that.

“I see the campsite number!”

“Great.” Tsukishima deadpans, and looks out of the window to his left.

“Hey, grumpy pants.” Bokuto wiggles over to elbow him, grinning, “At least we chose a _drive-in_ campsite.”

“Yeah.” Tsukishima says, “Because I fucking hate hiking, and there was no way in hell we’d haul this all up a mountain ourselves.”

“Pff, we could’ve done it.” Kuroo grins, and grips the steering wheel. They’ve hit unpaved road, their mini SUV now bumping as it chugs across gravel.

The car hits an especially large rock, and Tsukishima’s hands fly out to reach for the back of Kuroo’s headrest, “Fuck! Watch it!”

“I’m watchin’ it!” Kuroo laughs, and hits another rock.

“Okay, you hit that one on purpose.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Bokuto interrupts, “Do we know which campsite is ours?”

“Dunno’. It don’t look too busy though. I think ours is by the little tincan showers.”

Akaashi clears his throat, “Tanaka said that if we hit a, and I quote, _rock that looks like Rob Lowe’s chin,_ then we’ve gone too far.”

“That’s…surprisingly helpful.” Tsukishima leans up, bouncing with the jostling of the car. He points, “Is that it?”

“Oh!” Kuroo blinks, and turns the wheel. The car jerks a little, and Bokuto, who has already taken off his seatbelt, goes flying against Tsukishima.

“God _dammit._ ” Tsukishima grits, pushing at Bokuto’s arm, “Put your seatbelt back on-“

“We’re here!” Bokuto bounces, grinning, “Look!”

Tsukishima does look- but it’s not much of a sight - just a plot of flattened out land. It’s a walks distance from the lake, shimmery, and pretty under the sun. There’s a single fire pit, an old wooden picnic table, and a little aluminum hut that must be the showers.

"Welcome to hell." Tsukishima sighs, sinking down in the car seat. 

Kuroo parks the car, thank god- Akaashi was feeling vaguely seasick from the jostling. He turns around to look at the two passengers in the back; Tsukishima _already_ looks pissed off, but Bokuto looks quite the opposite.

Still, despite the mixed signals, Akaashi feels a vague sense of fondness towards them. He loves them both - openly so.

Kuroo pops open the doors, and they all slide out, vans and converse sinking into dirt.

Akaashi is still lost in thought as he unloads the car - really, he’s not sure how they managed this.

Tsukishima isn’t too fond of camping; Akaashi can’t say that he is either, but they’re both willing to make the sacrifice for their lovers.

It’s been a few years since this…whole thing between them began. It started off as just games- just fun- just screwing around with kisses and handjobs; but lust turned into love, and it’s been all downhill from there.

Or uphill, whatever. Akaashi loves them, and they know it.

“Oh god.” Bokuto shifts, gripping a dufflebag, and hauling it up, “What the hell is in here?”

“My wardrobe.” Akaashi replies, “Be careful.”

“Babe, we’re _camping.”_

“Yeah.” Akaashi gestures, “This takes work, honey.”

Bokuto and Kuroo laugh, still unloading the heavy stuff. Tsukishima hauls out their camp chairs, setting them up around the fire pit. There’s a pile of half chopped logs lined up by the edge of the smooth dirt, destined to be their firewood supply for the next four days.

They slide their cooler beneath the picnic table, the box filled with dry ice to last the trip, and their orange water jug sits atop.  They have a few electric lanterns- small, but will do the trick, later on.

 “Alright.” Kuroo wipes his hands off on his jeans, “That’s the last of our shit. I gotta’ go park the car down the hill.”

“I’ll go with you.” Akaashi stands.

“Awh, really?”

“Yeah, I don’t want you walking alone.”

“Yay!” Kuroo grins, sliding into the driver’s seat, “We’ll be back soon!”

“Be safe.” Tsukishima waves.

* * *

 

It’s been roughly twenty minutes, and Bokuto is _still_ struggling with the tent.

At this point, Tsukishima has turned around the camp chair, and is lounging, a beer in one hand, watching through half lidded eyes.

Don’t get Tsukishima wrong; Bokuto looks fucking adorable, all confused, his tongue peeking out between his teeth- but Tsukishima is growing bored. Bokuto just does the same thing over and over- he tries to push the poles together, the poles _don’t_ bend, and he turns them around, and tries again. He sets it up, the tent falls. Again, and again.

“Did you read the instructions?” Tsukishima finally asks.

“Pfff!” Bokuto sputters, “ _Real men_ don’t read instructions.”

“Mhmm.” Tsukishima blinks slowly. He sighs, and begrudgingly rises from the chair, looking around for the bag Bokuto had tossed over his shoulder. He locates it, and digs through for the paper crumpled up in the bottom. He looks at the paper, looks up to Bokuto, and looks back down, before saying, “You have it upside down.”

Bokuto stops dead in his tracks. He blinks twice, and then slowly rotates the poles, saying, “I knew that.”

“Right.”

Bokuto tries standing the poles back up, but the tent wobbles. Tsukishima lets out a breath, skims the rest of the instructions, and sighs.

“Here, like this.” Tsukishima grips the poles, and they click together. He feeds it through the top of the tent, and this time it stays.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto laughs, “I thought you’ve never been camping before!”

“I haven’t.” He deadpans, pushing the tent up as Bokuto helps, “I just know how to read.”

Bokuto huffs, a strand of hair falling across his face. Tsukishima resists the urge to forget the tent all together, and push that strand back up where it belongs, sticking up high, like the owl Bokuto is.

Instead they finish the four-man-tent, unzipping the entrance to begin throwing all their shit inside.

There’s a call from behind them, “Aye! You got the tent up!”

They turn, and see Kuroo and Akaashi walking, hands together, despite the warm weather.

“Yeah! Tsukki-“

“He did it all by himself.” Tsukishima says, reaching to sit back down in his chair, and drink from his beer again.

Bokuto’s mouth falls open, before it closes. He gives Tsukishima a look, but Tsukishima doesn’t respond- he understands Bokuto’s pride better than anyone.

 Kuroo grins, “Yo! I knew you could do it.”

“We need to blow up our mattresses.” Akaashi digs through a bag, “And the foam pads.” He then smirks, “Not it.”

Bokuto blurts “Not it!”

“Not it.” Tsukishima sips.

Kuroo then laughs, “ _Dammit!”_

* * *

 

The sun sets before long; it takes more time than it should to get everything situated. They lay out sleeping bags and blankets, and prepare firewood until sundown. Kuroo kneels over the fire pit with a lighter, clicking at the leaves beneath the wood, hoping for a flame. When it breathes to life, he steps back, grinning, “There.”

“Wow.” Bokuto reaches around to look, “You did that so easily.”

“I used to go camping a lot with my mom.”

“Oh, right!”

The sky is a purply pink, but it turns darker at every moment, their fire becoming their only source of light. Akaashi and Tsukishima crawl to sit on the log benches, Tsukishima clicking at his phone as the other watches the fire grow.

“There’s no damn signal here.”

“Welcome to the mountains, baby.”

“This sucks."

“Awe, come on babe.” Bokuto bounces, “We still gotta’ cook dinner.”

“What’s for dinner?” Akaashi asks.

“Hotdogs, yo.”

“Kuroo, I’m a vegetarian.” Akaashi  states flatly.

“That’s why...” Bokuto reaches into the cooler, and lets out a triumphant noise, “We brought this!”

He holds up a bag; through the firelight, Akaashi can read _Vegan Hotdogs_ in goofy letters.

“Oh gee.” Akaashi deadpans, “I’m so excited.”

“Okay,” Kuroo holds up a hand, “Both of ya’ll are really crampin’ my style right now. It’s time for an attitude check.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, but actually perks up when he sees the ingredients for s’mores.

Tsukishima isn’t looking too crabby anymore either - he actually takes the metal stick from Bokuto, and plops on a hotdog, silently holding it over the fire.

Nobody is saying anything, at the moment. Akaashi eyes his vegan hotdog warily, but holds it over the fire still, warming it next to Bokuto’s. The fire pops, and crackles, the light flickering over their faces. With the moon came the cold, but the fire warms them nicely.

It’s summer; Tsukishima graduated college this year, the last of them, finally- finally free to go vacation.

But they’re here, of all places. Not the beach, or a nice cabin, but on a dirt lot and a lake.

Tsukishima can’t complain, though. Akaashi is at his side, smiling softly, turning his hotdog. The crickets are loud, and there’s the soft cooing of an owl, harmonizing with the popping of the fire.

Akaashi pulls his hotdog off the flames, when Tsukishima speaks up.

“I’m sorry.”

Kuroo blinks, “For what?”

“I have been kind of cranky.” Tsukishima turns his hotdog, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright!” Bokuto smiles, “This isn’t your element, dude. But it’s okay, we’ll totally show you how fun camping can be.”

Tsukishima, surprisingly, smiles back, “Okay.”

“Oh, oh.” Kuroo grins, “So, is now the time for ghost stories?”

Bokuto gasps, “Oh! I got one.”

“Bo, retelling the story of _Brokeback Mountain_ is not scary.”

“It is though!” Bokuto shouts, “They don’t end up together in the end! They have to pretend to be _straight_ for the _rest of their lives!_ That’s horrifying!”

Kuroo begins to laugh, reaching around with his free arm to squeeze his shoulders. Bokuto gives a cute little huffy noise, and Tsukishima breaks out into a smile.

“I have one.” Akaashi announces softly. The other three look up to him, surprised, and vaguely scared, as he nods, “It’s a true story.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, “Oh, of _course_ it is-“

“I’m serious.” Akaashi states, “It happened to my aunt.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Akaashi repeats, “She used to be a policewoman. You know, with all the crazy shit she saw, I’m not surprised that some spirits followed her home.”

It’s quiet, here in the forest. The fire crackles, and the trees loom over them. Akaashi’s voice is so soft; the mood shifts from fun to terrifying in seconds.

“One day, she was sitting on her couch,” Akaashi plops a new hotdog onto his stick, “you know, just resting after work.” He lowers his stick above the fire, twirling it as the others eat, “She felt kind of odd. Just a little creeped out, but she ignored it.”

Akaashi looks up through his eyelashes; Tsukishima couldn’t really care less, but Bokuto and Kuroo are sitting together, looking at Akaashi through wide eyes.

“She looked up to the mantle, and there was this family photo.” He says, “It was of her, and her husband, and their two kids. And as she looked up, the _glass cracked-“_ He jabs his hotdog in Kuroo and Bokuto’s direction, and the two jump, hilariously so.

“N-no way-“

“Ask my aunt.” Akaashi shrugs, “It shattered, right at that moment. She got up to leave, but as she turned around-“

“Alright!” Bokuto waves his hands around, “I don’t want to know, actually. No more. Let’s talk about something else, like, I dunno’, fuckin’ dicks or something-“

Kuroo breaks out into laughter, and Tsukishima hides his smile, squeezing ketchup onto his hotdog.

“But that wasn’t even scary-“

“I changed my mind.” Bokuto laughs too, at his own cowardice, “I changed my mind.”

* * *

 

They sit all evening, laughing as the wind would occasionally blow, smoking out someone from their comfortable spot on the log.

They chat, passing beer and making s’mores. They’re tired from the drive and the labor, but now, they’re free. The work is done, and all they have left to do is _have fun._

And they do, this night, under the half full moon. As they slowly relax, they laugh more, together, as lovers.

The highlight of the evening is when Tsukishima, three beers in, laughs so hard he falls off the log, his back crunching against the leaves, long legs astray. The other three just laughed too; Kuroo, still with two straws up his nose, and Akaashi with tears in his eyes.

It’s all in good fun- Akaashi realizes, soon enough, that this is different from any other vacation.

There’s nobody else here, other than the bugs, and the birds. They’re free from noise and society, and expectations and jobs. There’s no busy city bustling- no cars, no smog, no yelling, no roadrage.

It’s just them, on this mountain.

I mean, there’s a group of college kids camping out a mile down the road but _come on_ it’s the concept, dammit.

When they settle in that night, Akaashi barely makes it asleep- the image of Tsukishima squirmed in his sleeping bag, the drawstrings pulled tight around his face, is funny enough to keep him laughing until the late hours.

Still, they squirm together, sharing body heat. Bokuto is a fucking furnace, like always; he sleeps without a sleeping bag, squished between Akaashi and Tsukishima, his arms around them both. Kuroo huddles off in the corner, face down, his legs still tangled amongst them all.

Surprisingly, it’s not that uncomfortable. The two blow up mattresses squish together well, and they keep a little lamp on for light. They’re too exhausted to twist and turn, falling asleep quickly, snuggled together, adorably.

* * *

 

Light streams in through the half zipped window of the tent. It’s soft, and quiet. Birds sing.

 Akaashi realizes, suddenly, that he kicked out of his sleeping bag halfway through the night, and is stealing Bokuto’s body heat like a leech.

The latter doesn’t seem to care; he’s softly snoring, his head tipped back, ignorant to Akaashi’s limbs.

Akaashi jumps when he feels a mouth at his hair.

He whispers, soft, “Tetsurou?”

“Mmm.” He hums, and presses up against Akaashi’s back, “G’mornin.”

“What time is it?”

“No idea.”

Akaashi’s takes in a deep breath; his lungs ache lightly from the altitude change, but with every breath, he feels better. He blinks away the sleep, and props his head up to look at Tsukishima.

He’s still got those drawstrings pulled all the way tight.

Akaashi presses his hand to his mouth to hide his laugh. Kuroo perks up, and looks too, muffling his laughter.

“He looks like a little worm.” Akaashi whispers.

“Or like, an uncircumcised dick.”

Bokuto rises from the grave at the sound of a dick joke, his chest rising with giggles.

“I heard that.” Tsukishima grits. His voice is heavy with sleep- but it’s so nice. All of this is, really. There’s something intoxicating about the raw tone of their morning voices, and the scruff of their unshaved cheeks, and the cold feet that have slipped out of their cocoons.

Akaashi feels another kiss being pressed to his hair- then his neck, then his cheek. Kuroo sandwiches him against Bokuto, warm, and comfy. There’s one more kiss to his temple, and Akaashi smirks, “You need to shave.”

“So do you!” Kuroo rubs his cheek against Akaashi, and the latter laughs.

“He does not.” Tsukishima adds, "Keiji is practically hairless.”

“Like you.”

“Exactly.” Tsukishima rolls over, his mouth muffling against the pillow, “ _W’time’izit.”_

“No idea.”

“ _Useless.”_ Tsukishima mumbles, and pats around for his phone. It’s already almost dead, but reads _nine a.m._

“Who’s cookin’ breakfast?”

“Oh, me!” Bokuto grins.

“Kou, no.” Akaashi reaches up to worm a hand through his dyed hair, “We know what happened last time.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ve been practicing.”

“Watching _Kitchen Nightmares_ does not count as practicing.”

“Yeah, but like, I know what _not_ to do now!”

“We can eat cereal.” Kuroo says against the back of Akaashi’s neck, “There, problem solved.”

“Okay, but no.” Tsukishima answers, “Because Bokuto pours his milk before his cereal, and I think that should be illegal.”

“It’s all the same!”

“It’s not!”

“Oh my god.” Akaashi rolls onto his back, looking up at the top of the tent. Kuroo laughs at his side- and then Bokuto giggles too, light, and airy.

They do decide on cereal, and Tsukishima insists on being the one to pour it.

* * *

 

It smells fresh here by the lake. The water is cool, but not freezing. The breeze blows softly as the sun beats them down; it goes nicely with Bokuto’s portable stereo, hooked up to his ipod, playing hard rock from the shore.

The lake fits Tsukishima’s needs fine, it seems. All they had to do was shove a bag of chips and a donut floaty in his arms, and he’s good. He floats about, munching on those chips, watching as Bokuto and Kuroo splash around.

“Fuck.” Akaashi squirms around in the water, “That was a _fish,_ fuck fuck fuck-“

“I gotcha’.” Bokuto grins, and wraps his arms around Akaashi, lifting him clean out of the water. The younger gasps, but quickly relaxes- Bokuto is so strong, and hot, and Akaashi isn’t gonna’ complain about being pressed against _that_ chest.

“Where did you see the fish?” Kuroo skims the water, “I wanna’ catch it.”

Tsukishima sputters, “What? Like MacGyver?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Over there.” Akaashi points, and Kuroo makes his way through the water. He jabs his hands in, but of course, hits nothing.

“We oughta’ go fishing later today.” Bokuto smiles.

“Pff, we can’t today.” Tsukishima floats around like the little princess he is, “We’ve probably scared all the fish off to Timbuktu.”

“Then we’ll just wait for them to come back from tim boku!”

“Bo, you’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Bokuto fake gasps, and drops Akaashi back into the water. The younger sputters, splashing around, but laughing nonetheless.

“Ass!”

“Hey, watch it.” Tsukishima holds up his chips, away from the spray- but it’s to no avail, for Kuroo swims from behind, and tips his little one-man-island over.

Tsukishima lets out an honest to god scream, but probably for the wellbeing of his chips more than anything. He rises, seething, his glasses wet and his hair sticking to his forehead. Kuroo laughs behind his hand, gasping for air, “ _Ahahah-“_

“You have two seconds to run.” Tsukishima says, smoothly- and Kuroo turns on his heel in a heartbeat. True to his word, Tsukishima gives him two seconds before he bolts after him. Kuroo heads towards the shore, but Tsukishima is like a goddamn mermaid, moving through the water at a superhuman speed. He latches onto Kuroo’s back, and they both fumble into the lakewater.

“Help! Help!” Kuroo laughs, writhing as Tsukishima wraps an arm around his head, and kicks at his legs, “Help!”

“You dug your own grave, my dude.” Bokuto hoots.

Tsukishima goes for a headlock- damn Tsukki, and his weirdly superhuman strength- but Kuroo is stronger. He grips Tsukishima’s wrists, and pushes back, giving him just enough time to wrap around his waist and squeeze.

“S-stop-“ Tsukishima shouts, but is laughing anyways.

“Gotcha’ bitch.” Kuroo grins, and dunks him under the water. Tsukishima rises, and tries to be angry, but fails.

“Oh hey, found your chips.” Bokuto lifts up the soggy bag. It flops around in the wind, like a sad, heavy flag.

“Yay.” Tsukishima deadpans. He shoots daggers at Kuroo, and splashes him once, “Why do you always have to start shit?”

“What can I say?” Kuroo shrugs, smirking, slithering towards him in the water, “I like to tip the first domino-“

“-and watch them all fall, I know.” Tsukishima continues, nevertheless wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s neck, and letting him kiss his cheek, the water reaching their waists.

“Kuroo is the definition of a chaotic evil.” Akaashi adds, floating about.

“You love me anyways~.”

“We do.” Tsukishima admits- he leans in for a kiss, soft, and slow-

-and then he _attacks._ He presses at Kuroo’s shoulders and sends him under, the latter laughing, and sputtering.

* * *

 

The tincan showers are fucking freezing, but that’s to be expected. They do their job; they provide clean enough water to scrub themselves down from the lakey smell- and that’s it.

“God, that was cold.” Bokuto says, waddling back with his shower buddy, his wet towel wrapped around his shoulders.

Kuroo ruffles his hair with his towel, saying, “Honestly. I think my balls fuckin’ receded up into my throat.”

Akaashi snorts, “At least this campsite _has_ fresh water.”

“That’s true.”

Bokuto takes a seat in his folding chair, and Kuroo rummages through the food bag, still drying his hair with one hand. They’ve changed clothes - Akaashi already into something just as cute as ever, but the rest of them settle for flannels and jeans.

“So what’s the plan for the rest of today?” Akaashi plays with a strand of hair behind his head.

“Just chill, man.” Kuroo says. “You want a beer?”

“No, but I’ll take a Pepsi.”

“Gotcha’.” Kuroo digs through the cooler, and pulls one out, handing it to Akaashi. “Anyone else?”

“Nah.”

“Oh, you know what though?” Akaashi stands up, and heads for their tent, “Does anyone want to play a card game?”

* * *

 

“Uno.”

“You _fucker._ ” Kuroo spits, “You do _not_ have an uno.”

“I do~.” Bokuto sings, waving around his card.

“Why is he so good at this?” Tsukishima glares down at his cards. They sit around the picnic table, the afternoon sun peeking through the trees. The birds sing around them- the occasional chipmunk rummages through a bush.

“I’m just the best, is all.” Bokuto throws his imaginary hair over his shoulder, “Suck it.”

“Later.” Kuroo clicks his tongue, and Bokuto does a finger pistol.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, “God, stop flirting.”

“We can’t _help_ it~.” Kuroo sings.

 “We’re just so in _loooove-_ “

“I’m going to puke.” Akaashi jokes, and the others laugh. They pick up the game once again, placing cards down in the pile.

Tsukishima places down a red seven; Akaashi changes it to a blue seven, and Kuroo slaps down a blue four.

“Aha!” Bokuto grins, and places down his card; a yellow four, exactly.

“ _Dammit!_ ” Kuroo yells, his voice bouncing off the trees, “I played into your _grimey_ little hand again _!_ ”

“What happened to all that love?” Tsukishima raises an eyebrow.

“It’s gone now.” Kuroo crosses his arms, “I’m so mad.”

Bokuto squirms with happiness at winning another game. Akaashi just rolls his eyes and smiles, leaning over to bump his shoulder against Kuroo’s, “Don’t mope.”

“M’ not mopin’.”

There’s more laughter, here, on that old wooden picnic table. Akaashi dips his hands back into the trail mix, digging around for just the M&M’s.

You know, at first, when this entire relationship began, the world was against them. Akaashi thought for sure that something like this was impossible. Polyamorous relationships are rare, and hard, and disliked by many. Akaashi figured it wouldn’t last long- it was just a child of lust and desire and the ways of the world.

But Akaashi received a sign; proof, that they were meant to be together.

Akaashi only eats the M&M’s from the trail mix; Kuroo only wants the raisins, Tsukishima eats all the almonds, and Bokuto is always happy to take the leftover peanuts.

Surely, that is some kind of sign. 

Akaashi finishes off all the M&M’s, and hands the bag to Tsukishima, who wordlessly begins digging for the almonds as Kuroo shuffles the cards.

Akaashi watches, and resists a smile; Kuroo is really good at shuffling cards. His long, slender hands thumb the cards into a bridge, shuffling them like a Las Vegas dealer. Akaashi finds it hot as hell, but he’ll never tell Kuroo that.

The elder taps the cards on their side, and sets the deck back down, “Alright, rematch.”

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, they split ways, just to give each other some space. Tsukishima climbs into their tent, zipping up the windows, for a nap. Akaashi busts out the Ye Old Sketchbook™, as Kuroo goes for a walk.

Bokuto decides to be helpful; he finds a nearby stump, and hauls over a pile of chopped wood, splitting them down to smaller pieces to use as firewood.

 _Smaller pieces build better fires-_ Kuroo had said- and Bokuto took that to heart.

And oh ho- Akaashi is _happy to watch._

Akaashi is no idiot- he puts down the sketchbook, turns his chair, and pops open a beer, watching Bokuto chop wood. _Fuck_ he looks awesome, his muscles flexing beneath his thin t-shirt. He stops halfway through to roll up his sleeves, and _hooo_ boy, Akaashi almost looks for something to fan himself with.

The sounds echo around the valley of the campsite.

_Chop. Chop. Chop- snap!_

There’s one particular piece that won’t break; Bokuto steps on it, using the hand axe to rip it in half, and fuck, that’s definitely going in Akaashi’s spank bank.

“Hey.” Kuroo approaches, “What’s up?”

“Not much.” Akaashi replies, not even bothering to look up. “How was your walk?”

“Good. What’s your plan for the rest of the night?”

“You’re looking at it.” Akaashi says, still not turning away.

Kuroo raises an eyebrow; he looks to Bokuto, takes about _two seconds,_ and then nods, “Yep.”

There’s the sound of a chair being dragged against the dirt, before Akaashi sees him sit next out of his peripheral vision. Kuroo lifts up his beer bottle, and Akaashi clinks it against his own.

Miraculously, Bokuto still hasn’t noticed them watching; if he has, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s so focused, chopping the wood into various slivers, sorting them by size. Bokuto is a surprisingly organized person, unlike Tsukishima, who will throw his shit wherever he likes.

They’re all so different, but that’s what makes their relationship interesting.

Bokuto picks up a particularly heavy piece of wood, setting it on his makeshift table. His arms flex deliciously.  Akaashi hears Kuroo take in a deep breath; Akaashi whispers, “Damn.”

“ _He’s so hot._ ” Kuroo mumbles.

“I know.” Akaashi mutters back, sipping his beer. Bokuto hacks at the wood, and it spits in two. He stops for a moment, suddenly, reaching down to wipe off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. Doing so reveals the muscles of his stomach, flexing from use, and lightly shimmery from sweat.

“ _Hhhhhh-“_ Kuroo nibbles on the rim of his bottle, “Hhhhhnnnn-“

“Shhh.” Akaashi blindly slaps his arm with his left hand.

“Do you think he’ll take off the shirt?”

“God, I hope so.”

“You two are pathetic.”

Tsukishima’s voice suddenly rings behind them.

Akaashi and Kuroo don’t even bother turning around.

“Pff, that’s nothing new.” Akaashi says, sipping.

“You literally see him shirtless every day.”

“Yeah, but not like this man.” Kuroo sniffs, “Like damn.”

There's a pause; Bokuto leans up to push back his hair, and Akaashi can  _feel_ Tsukishima hesitate behind him. 

 

There’s a single, short pause, and then the sound of a third chair being dragged through dirt. Kuroo nearly bites a hole in his lip, trying to hold back a smile when he sees Tsukishima sit down too, resting his forearms on his knees, squinting to get a better look.

Bokuto is still so naïve, working hard, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. Two logs later, and Bokuto forgoes the shirt completely.

There’s a hushed chorus of: “ _Yessss,”_ and the sound of drinks clinking together in congratulations.

Minutes later, Kuroo suddenly grins, “Hey, wanna’ see something?”

Akaashi and Tsukishima don’t verbally reply, but he sees them nod. Kuroo purposefully drops his beer bottle, and kicks it towards Bokuto. He calls, “Oh, no! Hey babe, can you pick that up for me?”

Bokuto turns, blinking, surprised to see that Kuroo was even there. “Huh? Oh!” He turns, “I got it.” He bends over to grab the beer bottle-

There’s some choked noises; the sound of Akaashi drawing blood in his mouth, and Tsukishima digging his nails into Kuroo’s thigh. Bokuto’s back straightens, and he turns around: but when he does, the three of them are just sitting there, looking bored, studying their nails.

* * *

 

This position suits Akaashi just fine, to be honest. He sits on Tsukishima’s lap in the camp chair, kissing him lazily. It’s not heated, like the fire behind them; it’s just for fun- just for the comfort of it all.

Tsukishima kisses so methodically- not _predictable-_ but methodic. Every move has a purpose, every brush of his thumbs has a reason. Like, for instance, now, as his fingers draw slow circles on Akaashi’s hips. The fire still flickers behind them, the sun setting behind the trees.

It's nice, now that Tsukishima’s attitude has slowly dissipated over the last day. They had to pull teeth to get him here- and it’s nice to see him smile, and laugh.

Speaking of teeth, Akaashi can feel a tongue running against his own, slowly tracing out the lines of his mouth. Akaashi hums, happy, and plays with the little blonde curls that curve at his neck.

“You two are gonna’ break that chair.” Bokuto says, sitting atop Kuroo’s lap, roasting a marshmallow. Akaashi doesn’t react, instead, he pulls a hand back from Tsukishima’s hair to flip him off, sarcastically. He hears laughter, but can hardly focus. He’s tired, his brain mostly moving on autopilot.

The fire pops and crackles, the smoke floating up past the trees. Kuroo hums and leans to rest his head in the curve of Bokuto’s neck, “You did a great job with that firewood today.”

“Thank you!” Bokuto smiles, looking at his marshmallow fondly. “I wanted to build a really nice fire.”

“Well, you did.” Kuroo wiggles his arms around his waist, and sniffs. “Good job.”

Bokuto hums, eyes looking between his marshmallow, and the two in the chair, kissing because they can.

Bokuto watches, and thinks, _well that’s a pretty good idea-_ he drops his marshmallow into the fire and twists to kiss Kuroo long, and soft.

They stop when they feel water, light, and sporadic. Bokuto breaks the kiss to look up at the dark night sky, where the moon is now hidden by clouds.

It begins to rain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a big ol' thank you to mal for drawing smut omfg

They’re already in their tent when the rain comes.

Bokuto and Kuroo volunteer to patter outside in flip flops and baggy sweat shirts with hoods atop their heads. They shove their chairs and bags beneath the picnic table, and cover it with a tarp quickly, crawling back in to lay back down.

Tsukishima has lit a small electric lantern, setting it in the corner to give them some light.

“Hoo.” Bokuto takes off his hood as he zips up the tent behind Kuroo, “It’s chilly out there.”

“Did you tie it all down?”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t go anywhere.” Kuroo shoves his guitar case into the corner of the tent, and crawls back in on the mattress next to Tsukishima, wiggling his arms around him and pulling him into his lap. It’s dark, but they’re not all that sleepy- they had, previously, a good ol’ time outside, before the clouds snuck in.

The rain makes a consistent pitter patter sound against the roof of the tent. It’s soothing, in its own way.

“I didn’t know it was going to rain up here.”

“I checked the weather last week. It wasn’t supposed to,” Akaashi shrugs, “but, you know, it’s the mountains.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t last too long.” Kuroo says, into the back of Tsukishima’s neck, “I didn’t dig _that_ deep of a trench around the tent.”

Akaashi squirms up to wrap his arms around Bokuto’s neck as he straddles his lap, answering, “It’ll be fine.”

Bokuto is relatively good at reading the mood; he squeezes in close, his stomach and back muscles supporting both their weight as Akaashi leans in to kiss him.

Akaashi and Bokuto have known each other the longest; they’ve seen each other at their best, and their worst. When they’re together, it’s nothing but sweet muscle memory. Akaashi knows how to kiss him how he likes, all tongue in short breaths; and Bokuto knows how to press his fingers into the curve of his back and bite into the valley of his neck to make Akaashi melt like putty in his hands.

The rain only adds to the mood- it syncs up with their kisses, drowning out the occasional smack of their lips.

It's lazy, and smooth, just like it should be.

Out of the corner of their eyes they can see Tsukishima, resting his back against Kuroo’s chest, his head tipped back, mouth open slightly. Kuroo’s hands can work miracles, as they do now, massaging into his slender thighs and the smooth curve of his stomach.

Tsukishima has little to no core strength; if you ask him to sit up on his own, he’ll just lay there, and stare at you until you pick him up – but that’s perfectly fine. Tsukishima is beautiful in his own way; in the stretch marks that curl around his hips, and his knees; in the cowlicks of his hair, and the deep tone of his voice; in the beauty marks on his collarbones, and the gold in his eyes.

Right now, those eyes stare upwards, burning holes into the fabric of the tent. Kuroo’s hands move slow, without purpose- such a contrast to Tsukishima in general, his motions typically driven by pure reason alone-  but Tsukishima keeps his mouth shut, for once.

It’s Kuroo that talks;

“I miss my iPod.”

“Mmm.” Bokuto hums, pulling apart from Akaashi, “Mine died yesterday.”

“It’s weird not doing this to music.”

Akaashi gives a half nod, his chin rubbing against Bokuto’s cheek, as his head dips down to press kisses into his right shoulder.

A smooth voice says, “In a way, we are.”

Akaashi looks to Tsukishima, eyes glossed over, limbs heavy. Tsukishima somehow manages to look thoughtful  _and_ disheveled simultaneously, which is a good look for him, to be honest. Kuroo’s hands are playing underneath the dip of his soft pajama pants, his mouth nipping into the bumps where his spine meets his neck.

Rain continues to gush off the sides of the tent, running into the dirt trench and down towards the forest line. It’s humid and cold, but they keep each other warm, Akaashi’s nails trailing down Bokuto’s chest, Tsukishima’s hips lifting into Kuroo’s palm.

Bokuto's mouth softly nips down Akaashi's neck - there's no one to hide hickies from, way up here.

His lips finally meet the edge of Akaashi’s sweatshirt; he considers taking it off, and risking Akaashi being cold. Instead, he pushes Akaashi’s sweatpants down, warm hands sliding around to squeeze at his ass.

“Hey, were we smart enough to bring lube?”

“I think so.”

“Hold on.” Tsukishima wiggles in Kuroo’s lap, and the latter retracts his hand, letting Tsukishima squirm forwards on his stomach, and dig around in one of their bags. He pulls out a bottle and tosses it to Bokuto, who catches it one hand.

“You better be on top.” Akaashi mumbles, “I’m too tired to ride you.”

Bokuto laughs, “I’ll hold you, it’s okay.”

The cap pops open, and Akaashi resumes his position, bare knees digging into the foam pad, dressed in nothing but a baggy sweatshirt. The sleeves are too long, falling past his fingertips; so he takes to locking his arms around Bokuto’s shoulders, the slack pooling at his wrists. Akaashi huffs in the darkness. 

“Warm that shit.” Akaashi demands, right as Bokuto’s fingers hover under him. Bokuto laughs, retracting his fingers, and warming it with his hands.

“Bossy tonight, aren’t you?”

“He’s always bossy.” Tsukishima says, still on his stomach, but now between Kuroo’s knees, sucking where his hipbone meets his leg.

Kuroo snorts, “So are _you._ ”

“Yeah, but Keiji is the bossiest.”

“Kei is my bossy bitch in traiiii—ning-” Akaashi jokes, but cuts himself off as Bokuto presses in without warning, “You did _not wa-arrmm- thattt-“_

“I did!” Bokuto defends, grinning, squirming his index finger in with the help of the lube.

“Ah, dammit.” Akaashi grits, and welcomes a second finger a little too quickly.

Next to him, he can hear Kuroo hiss; Akaashi looks up through his eyelashes, and sees Tsukishima licking across Kuroo's cock relentlessly, his glasses askew on his nose, his eyes focused and full of purpose. Akaashi can see him hard through his pajama pants, twitching against the mattress. Tsukishima’s tongue is quite devilish; Akaashi _has_ been the victim of many premature orgasms due to that mouth.

Damn him.

Although, it is quite entertaining to see _Kuroo_ squirm, his back rising off the mattress, his left foot digging into Tsukishima’s shirt, riding it up to his bellybutton.

“ _Fuck._ ” Kuroo spits, without venom, “How the hell do you do that?”

Tsukishima just hums around him, contently pressing Kuroo’s hips down, controlling the pace himself.

“It’s that snarky tongue.” Bokuto grins, now three fingers deep in Akaashi, the latter a drooling mess. “He’s got snarky tongue powers.”

For emphasis, Tsukishima pulls back, licking across the head in long circles, and Kuroo lets out a long groan into the humid air.

Meanwhile, Akaashi can’t really determine left from right, because Bokuto isn’t doing his usual thing; stretching him out, just for safety, and then pulling back.

Instead he’s _fucking him_ with his fingers, long and slow and torturous, dragging his fingers where Akaashi needs them most. His blood runs liquid hot; he can feel his eyes clouding over, and his toes curl. He gasps against Bokuto's neck, hips gyrating, eyelashes kissing his skin. He has half the mind to feel annoyed- they're camping, for fucks sake, Bokuto shouldn't smell  _this_ good. 

“Oh _shit-_ “ Akaashi spits under his breath. His nails find leverage in Bokuto’s hair, pulling at long strands, “- _Koutarou_ _-_ “

Kuroo turns his head away from Tsukishima, and watches Akaashi press his forehead against Bokuto’s, sucking in air against his lips. Bokuto grins wildly, his fingers twisting and wiggling.

Akaashi can _feel_ Kuroo’s eyes; they have certain weight to them, piercing, and strong. Akaashi can feel them scour where his sweatshirt rides above his hips- he can feel the eyes drag down the length of his thighs, and curve of his calves.

Tsukishima deepthroats Kuroo, and the eyes leave.

“ _Ohmygod-_ “ Kuroo convulses, his back arching, “-you better watch it-“

Tsukishima gives a gargled laugh, and pops back to grin, “Too much?”

“Fuck no, do that again.” Bokuto says for him, smirking. Kuroo doesn’t seem to get a say in the matter, for Tsukishima happily resumes, hands spreading Kuroo’s thighs.

“You’re _speeding up-_ “ Akaashi interrupts, through gritted teeth, “Kou, _Kou_ _-_ “

Bokuto gives a knowing hum, and moves his fingers in a steady rhythm. Akaashi swallows down a moan, and metaphorically shoos away the feeling building in his gut. His cock drags against Bokuto’s with every push and pull, and Akaashi thinks he might _actually_ be dying.

“I’m not, I’m not-“ Akaashi grits, “- _Bo-“_

Bokuto takes to kissing him instead, long, and slow. He reaches over to pat Kuroo’s shoulder with his left hand, and the duo at their side freezes, to watch.

Bokuto's free hand squirms between them, wrapping around Akaashi to pump him a grand three times, in tandem with the fingers scissoring and squirming. 

Akaashi groans against his mouth and comes between them both, his eyes screwed shut, his head too heavy to support itself. His toes curl, and his body trembles, moving beyond his control, warm and tingly, every nerve now on edge. His forehead falls against Bokuto’s shoulder as he chokes, shivering, “ _Dammit, Koutarou.”_

Bokuto just hums, happy as can be, slowing his fingers and dragging them out with emphasis. The lube that drips down Akaashi’s thighs is nothing but obscene.

“Fuck you.” Akaashi pants, with no spitfire, “I thought I was going to ride you.”

Bokuto smiles, and peppers Akaashi’s cheek with kisses, “I thought this was better.”

“Oh, definitely.” Tsukishima agrees, nuzzled into Kuroo’s thigh.

Akaashi can barely manage a coherent thought, and instead falls limp against Bokuto; and bless him, honestly, for having such a strong core, because he keeps them both sitting upright without a problem.

After all that; after watching Akaashi muffle and choke and shiver, Kuroo doesn’t make it much longer. Tsukishima is so lackadaisical, licking up long stripes, base to tip, then swallowing around him twice just for fun.

Kuroo bites hard into the flesh of his hand when his body does, finally, betray him, trembling to pieces underneath Tsukishima. It’s a definite role reversal, but it’s not unwelcome. It’s always a blessing when Tsukishima feels motivated enough to take control- to boss around and tease and look up through shimmery, smirky eyes and grin as he swallows.

Akaashi and Bokuto still haven’t moved, instead choosing to watch Tsukishima pull back and press one last bite into the firm muscle of Kuroo’s thigh. Bokuto is still hard, but he doesn’t make any notion of asking for anything. Typically, Akaashi is _more_ than happy to return the favor, but right now he feels boneless and dead.

Akaashi mumbles, sleepy, “Beautiful.”

“Mm.” Tsukishima hums, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Kuroo slowly starts to sit up, pulling his sweatpants back up to his hips, breathing hard.

“Alright, you next baby.” Bokuto grins, gesturing towards Tsukishima. The latter blinks, incredulously, and doesn’t move.

Bokuto does move, however. He maneuvers Akaashi into Kuroo’s arms- who is more than willing to take him, by the way- and gestures for Tsukishima to crawl his way.

He looks like a panther, eyes narrowed, and determined, as he moves towards Bokuto, almost tenaciously. He looks as if he’s about to pounce, maybe, or run away- but Bokuto quickly grips him, laughing, and twists him onto the foam mattress, kneeling between his legs and kissing the living daylights out of him.

Akaashi is snuggled perfectly happy and content in Kuroo’s arms. They’re both major post-sex-cuddlers, and it’s obvious, as Kuroo throws a leg over Akaashi’s now-clothed hip, and presses his cold nose Akaashi’s cheek. In turn, Akaashi plays with the fingers resting over his bellybutton, squeezing as he watches Bokuto laugh into Tsukishima’s neck, drawing small giggles out of the younger.

“Stop.” Tsukishima bites down a laugh and presses his hands into the swell of Bokuto’s chest, “That tickles.”

“It’s so cute!”

“Aha- _stop-_ “

Bokuto licks up to his ear and drives down his hips, grinding against him through the layers of pajama pants. Tsukishima huffs out a shaky breath, and his eyes nearly roll back. Bokuto has Magic Bokuto Powers™; he can turn anyone into jelly- even the most stubborn, stuck up people will _always_ fall victim to Bokuto’s laugher and his strong arms and his protective aura that radiates from him in thick waves.

That’s the most apparent with Tsukishima; the ever so proud Tsukishima; as he melts and melts and twists and turns, molding into whatever Bokuto wants.

The mess isn’t too bad, afterwards; Bokuto is more than happy to wipe them all down and turn off the lamp, collapsing atop them in a warm, mushy body pile.

The rain still patters on; its thunderless and calm as it washes away the sins from the earth, and lulls the sinners themselves to sleep.

* * *

 

“Uh…” Akaashi blinks, warm tea in hand, “Where are you two going?”

“Hiking!” Bokuto shifts the backpack on his shoulder, “There’s a really nice walking path that goes up the mountain.”

“How do you know this?”

“Tanaka and Nishinoya said!”

“Are you _really_ just going to take their word on that?”

“Nah.” Kuroo laughs, “I looked it up. It’s a six hour hike, full circle. We’ll be back by sundown.”

“Huh, okay.” Akaashi blinks, rubbing the sleep out his eyes with his free hand. They slept in _way_ too late today. There’s a click of a camera, and Akaashi looks up to glare; Kuroo holds his camera in hand, grinning, and snaps another picture. Akaashi opens his mouth to argue, but the youngest cuts him off-

“Is it safe? After the rain?” Tsukishima asks.

Bokuto nods, “Should be! There’s only a few steep cliffs, but we’ll head back if we see anything obstructing the path.”

Akaashi and Tsukishima share one sleepy look before shrugging, “Alright, have fun.”

They each get kisses goodbye, and calls of “ _Love you! See you later!”_

Then they leave.

Then, it’s quiet.

It’s nice though; Tsukishima just crawls back into the tent to sleep more, and Akaashi curls up with his sketchbook, shaded by the overhang of the pine trees.

Akaashi enjoys the silence – the reclusiveness of it all. Birds hold conversations high above his head, and ants carry leaves up a tree, in a nice line.

Akaashi thumbs through his sketchbook, and taps his pencil against the wood of the picnic table; he decides to draw inspiration from the pill bug waddling its way across the table.

He doodles circles and ridges and whatever strange shapes comes to mind. He sits for a while, sipping tea, and thumbing through a bag of Chex Mix.

A while later the tent zips open, and Tsukishima waddles out, looking much more awake than the hours earlier.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Still drawing?”

“Mm.” Akaashi hums, tapping his pencil, “Trying to.”

“Is there any tea left?”

“A little. We’re almost out.”

“We ran out of beer yesterday.”

“I know, it’s _tragic.”_

Tsukishima laughs at that, and grips his little foam cup, taking a seat next to Akaashi on the picnic table. Akaashi continues to draw, mindlessly, sketching at the figure of a woman. Tsukishima rests his head on Akaashi’s shoulder and watches.

Moments like these are rare, and treasured; Akaashi and Tsukishima have never needed to say much – they’ve always functioned on their own special wavelength of communication.

Still, Tsukishima says, “Is that for work?”

“My internship.” Akaashi doodles, “Let’s hope she likes them.”

“She will.” Tsukishima mumbles, “You’re really good.”

“Thank you.” Akaashi bites back a smile. “When does your job start with the engineering firm?”

“A couple weeks.” He answers, “Give or take.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll be fine.” Akaashi leans his weight against him for emphasis, “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“Who’s number one?”

“Kuroo, unfortunately.”

“That’s stupidly true.” Tsukishima huffs, “The other day I watched him do the quadratic formula _in his head._ ”

“I’m not that surprised.” Akaashi says flatly, and gets the pleasure of hearing Tsukishima laugh.

It's so peaceful, together, like this. Akaashi smiles when he feels a singular kiss against his cheek- he turns to look, but Tsukishima has already leaned back to sip his tea, and to shift out of the glare of the sun. He's so beautiful, and will only grow more so.

Tsukishima sighs, “I’m not sure if I’ll ever understand him.”

“Kuroo?”

“Mm.”

“He’s one of a kind.” Akaashi notes.

He hears Tsukishima mutter, faintly, _you all are,_ before slipping away to find his book at the bottom of his backpack.

* * *

 

“Woah, dude!” Bokuto gasps, and raises his hand to block out the sun. The view is gorgeous from here, atop the mountain. It shows all the valleys around them, and the lakes that shimmer below. Fields of flowers are in bloom, coating the mountain sides like paint.  Kuroo’s feet hurt, and his back aches, but the view is worth the pain. He lifts his camera and takes another picture- one of the valley, and one of Bokuto _looking_ at the valley, because both are equally beautiful.

“Look, Kuroo.” Bokuto points, “I think that’s our campsite.”

Kuroo squints, and then nods, “Yeah, I see the lake shore.”

“I wonder if we can see Keiji and Tsukki.”

“Probably not.”

“I miss them.” Bokuto wiggles, kicking around rocks, and watching them bounce off the cliffside. “They would’ve loved this.”

“Not really.” Kuroo laughs, “They would’ve bitched and moaned all the way here.”

“I could’ve carried them!”

“You’re too pure, Bro.”

“Shut up.” He laughs, and turns to wrap a hand around the back of Kuroo’s neck. They’re both a sweaty mess, their hair sticking to their foreheads, their shirts soaked from the sun, but Bokuto _is_ the sun, and Kuroo is swept away, atop the mountain, where the wind blows, rustling their hair.

Kuroo hums and kisses him twice, before pulling away. He turns the camera around, and holds it out far, grinning, “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” Bokuto grins, all teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

As they look at the picture, it’s Kuroo that turns to look up at the sky.

“We should head back soon.”

“Okay.” Bokuto smiles. There’s a pause, before he grins, “Oh, wait. You know what would be super funny?”

* * *

 

It’s a peaceful day. They make sandwiches for dinner; they play card games and take naps, and _relax,_ finally.

But as the day goes on, it’s Tsukishima that says;

“This is weird.”

“Huh?” Akaashi blinks.

“Sorry, I love you.” Tsukishima takes his glasses off the wipe off the frames with the bottom of his shirt, saying, “But it’s just so damn quiet.”

“Oh,” Akaashi sniffs, “yeah, you’re right.”

“They should be getting back soon, right?”

“Should be.” Akaashi looks up to the sky, where the sun now kisses the tips of the trees, the sky turning pink and orange. “They’ll probably be a little longer.”

Tsukishima stares for just a beat too long, before he turns away, nodding.

And they do wait, for their lovers to return, but they don’t.

The sun sets lower, and Akaashi grows anxious. It’s getting dark and there’s still no distant laughter- still no loud, boisterous sound echoing off the trees.

“Should we call them?”

“There’s no signal.” Akaashi sighs, “They probably didn’t even take their phones.”

Tsukishima chews on the inside of his cheek, curled up on the wood log by the small fire they started.

“It’s getting cold.”

“I know.”

“They didn’t take jackets.”

“I _know._ ” Akaashi sighs. He tries to breathe in cool air- he tries to calm the ants crawling beneath his skin. “They probably got distracted. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“But it’s been _eight hours._ ” Tsukishima presses, “They said six-“

“I know what they said!” Akaashi spits, a little too loud, and Tsukishima flinches back. Akaashi breathes, “I’m sorry. I…I know.”

He didn’t mean to shout, really- he just- he’s just, maybe a little _worried,_ is all.

Tsukishima turns to stare at the fire, and mumbles, “We should go find them.”

“It’s too dark. We don’t know the trail, either.”

“So we go call a ranger, then?”

“We might have to.” Akaashi unzips the tent, and goes to look for the car keys, “We need to go where there’s signal-“

He’s cut off by a loud, gruff sound.

It comes from the dark trees. There’s a snap, and a loud grunt.

Tsukishima freezes in his chair, and Akaashi’s back straightens like a board.

There’s more huffing; a snort, and another loud snap. The sound is curt, and deep, and it sounds just like a-

_Bear._

Tsukishima jolts out of his chair, rising to his feet. Akaashi stumbles towards him, and away from the noise in the woods.

His heart is beating _so fast-_ Tsukishima looks pale under the firelight, and Akaashi can feel panic settle in.

“Is that a fucking bear?” Akaashi whispers.

“It might-“

“ _Kuroo said-“_

 _“Shh!”_ Tsukishima grips his bicep, hard. He begins to tug back, whispering, “ _The car-_ “

The bear gives a few more grunts- it calls out, low, and there’s another twig that snaps.

“A bear.” Akaashi repeats, staring at the darkness swirling past the tent, “ _A bear-_ “

There’s a big shadow between the trees, large, and round; it grows closer.

Akaashi is frozen where he stands, so Tsukishima makes the executive decision to grip Akaashi by the forearm and prepare to run-

But then there’s laughter.

Bokuto and Kuroo emerge from the trees, laughing with tears in their eyes.

“Holy shit!” Bokuto laughs, doubled over, stumbling across the edge of the tent, “I can’t believe it!”

“You-ahaha-“ Kuroo laughs, “-you should’ve seen your faces, holy fuck.”

Akaashi and Tsukishima freeze. They turn to look at each other, slowly, as Tsukishima removes his hand from Akaashi’s arm. Bokuto and Kuroo continue to laugh, their backpacks falling to the ground. They make fake bear noises between giggles.

“That was _amazing.”_ Kuroo wipes his eyes.

“I’ve never seen you two scared before!”

“Right? After all those horror movies, it’s a fucking _bear_ that scares the shit out of them.”

They laugh more, seemingly ignorant to the swirling fire from hell building across them.

The two younger adults share one long look, before Akaashi takes a step forwards, and grits, “Are you _fucking serious!?_ ”

“Ahaaha, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Bokuto laughs, “We just wanted to try and scare you.”

“No, are you actually serious?” Akaashi blinks. His hands are shaking and his stomach is twisting with anger. “You two are for real?”

Bokuto and Kuroo stop laughing. Their backs straighten, and they mumble, “Er…I mean…”

“That wasn’t fucking cool.” Tsukishima hisses, “Like, at all.”

“Oh.” Bokuto blurts, “Well, sorry-“

“No.” Akaashi interrupts, his voice rough, “I’m fucking pissed. That was not okay.”

“Wow.” Kuroo blinks, “I didn’t know you two were so scared of bears.” 

“It wasn’t the fucking bear, Kuroo.” Tsukishima takes a step forwards, and jabs his finger in his chest, “You seriously stayed out two hours late just to scare us?”

“Uhh-“

“It was the concept,” Akaashi lectures, “that you two might be _stranded_ out there, god knows where, and we’d be _dead._ We’d be dead, mauled by a bear, and you two would be stuck without help.”

Bokuto and Kuroo have paled substantially, like they hadn’t even considered this as a problem.

 “Jeez…” Bokuto rubs the back of his head, “I’m real sorry. It was my idea-“

“I don’t care.” Tsukishima takes a step away, stomping towards the tent, “I don’t care. Go fall off a cliff. Goodnight.” 

Bokuto and Kuroo stare, pits in their stomachs, frozen from exhaustion and guilt.

“Keiji…” Kuroo turns, “We…look, it was just a joke-“

“Ha-ha.” Akaashi deadpans. “Well, good job guys. Very funny. Great joke.”

And he follows Tsukishima into the tent, zipping up the door like a metaphorical slam.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Bokuto and Kuroo take cold showers. They dress in sweatshirts and pajama pants, still banished outside the tent.

It’s silent- now, more than ever.

Tsukishima can hear the fire crackling outside the tent, but he’s too upset to move from his blanket cocoon. The little electric lamp glows in the corner, where Akaashi is also huddled, staring at a spot on the wall.

He decides to break the silence.

“Are you okay?” Tsukishima asks, because he actually cares. He saw the way Akaashi’s hands shook - he heard the way his voice wavered with worry.

“Yeah.” Akaashi whispers. “That was shitton of adrenaline.”

Tsukishima breathes out a breath through his nose- a half laugh, without the laughing part- and opens up his blanket cocoon. “C’mere.”

Akaashi does move, after a moment, rising to cling onto the tallest of them all.

They speak, low, beneath the blankets.

“I was scared.”

“Me too.”

“I’m horrible under pressure.”

“Me too.”

There’s a voice at the door.

“Um…”

They freeze.

“Keiji….Tsukki…” Kuroo mumbles, “Can we come in?”

A simultaneous: “No.”

“Please? It’s cold.”

 “Go sit by the fire.” Tsukishima sniffs.

Their voices are sad, and low, “We want to apologize!”

“We’re really sorry. We didn’t think it we’d worry you so much.”

They continue to babble, but Tsukishima doesn’t catch all of it. Akaashi looks to him and mumbles, “Do we let them in?” 

Another short pause.

“Mm.” Tsukishima sighs, “I guess.”

There's only two options, really. They _are_ sorry, and Tsukishima does love them, after all. Maybe against his will, damn his heart.

Akaashi climbs out of Tsukishima’s arms to unzip the tent. He looks out and sees two very sad and cold men, with watery eyes, and sopping hair.

“Don’t _ever._ ” Akaashi stresses, “Lead me to falsely believe you two are in danger ever again.”

“Y-yes sir!”

Akaashi looks between them both, and falls into their arms, squeezing them once before squirming back into Tsukishima’s side.

 _Thank you!_ They mumble that night. _We love you._ They say, as they climb in, _We’re sorry._

And you know, Akaashi and Tsukishima don’t stay mad for long. They _did_ overreact, in a sense, so they do let them beneath the blankets, and they do eventually say _I love you too._

* * *

 

 

There’s a gruff noise.

Akaashi stirs in Tsukishima’s arms.

It’s a rough snort, and a little growl. There’s a small clatter outside, and another gruff noise.

It sounds just like the ‘bear’ from earlier.

He can feel Tsukishima stirring at his side, waking too from the noise.

“Ha, ha.” Akaashi mumbles into the night air, “Very funny, guys.”

“Huh?”

Akaashi rubs at his eyes, and listens to the bear impersonation. There’s a little cry, and another rough snort.

“Dude.” Kuroo begins slow, and worried, “That’s not us.”

Oh.

Akaashi realizes, horrifyingly, that Kuroo and Bokuto are _not_ outside banging pans and knocking over chairs.

He opens his mouth to take in a deep inhale and _scream,_ but Kuroo wraps a hand around Akaashi's mouth and twists, pressing him beneath his body protectively. Tsukishima shoots up, eyes wide, face pale, and Bokuto scrambles to push him as far back behind him as he can, protectively holding out an arm.

“ _Shhhh._ ” Kuroo whispers, low.

The air is thick with tension. There’s another low noise- and the sound of their cooler being knocked over. The bear breathes heavy, and loud.

Akaashi’s heartbeat is in his fucking ears; Kuroo’s palm is clammy against his mouth, but he doesn’t fight it. His own breathing is labored, and panicked.

Nobody moves a muscle.

The bear clambers around, gruffing and huffing, occasionally calling out into the night.

Bokuto is the first one to move, slow, slow, slow. He reaches between the blow up mattresses- Tsukishima's eyes follow his movement. He watches him pull out a small pocket knife, that had apparently been there the whole time.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes in the darkness, whispering, “Oh? And what are you gonna’ do with that? Pick his teeth?”

Bokuto shushes him, his face beyond serious- and Tsukishima holds his breath. 

Bokuto presses the knife into Tsukishima’s hand, and gestures to the back fabric of the tent. He mouths in the moonlight; _run, if you have to._

It’s at this very moment- this moment here, when the bear knocks over another chair- that Tsukishima realizes that Bokuto is completely willing to throw himself in the way of a _bear,_ in order to let his lovers escape.

Tsukishima grips the knife in his hand, bites back the sting in his eyes, and doesn’t move.

They wait.

Akaashi is still being pressed under the protective weight of Kuroo- who is holding his own breath, it seems.

A nose moves to the side of the tent; Akaashi squeezes his eyes shut, and Tsukishima grips the knife so hard it leaves indents in his palm.

The nose sniffs and snorts along the wall, grunting. Bokuto’s only movement is slow; he pushes himself more in front- more in the way.

The bear sniffs long, and slow. It pushes a little at the wall- it’s shadow is large, and round, and it’s probably the scariest thing they’ve ever seen. Tsukishima prepares to cut the back wall of the tent-

But there’s a cry, distant, and far off.

The cry of a cub.

The bear saunters off, huffing, it’s footsteps heavy. The shadow leaves; it disappears into the forest.

Then all is quiet.

Tsukishima stares at the tent wall, the knife pressed impossibly hard into his palm. Bokuto lets out a deep breath, just as Kuroo and Akaashi does.

“Holy shit.” Kuroo whispers, moving his hand away from Akaashi’s mouth. “Holy-“

“Shh.” Bokuto waves his hand, “It might still be here!”

They wait a few moments longer; they sit, and listen, and listen. Tsukishima’s grip on the knife lessens as reality crashes down, heavy.

Bokuto’s quick, makeshift plan; his movements; his protective arm. He was willing to die for them, here, this night, no questions asked.

Tsukishima drops the knife and tackles Bokuto to the mattress, kissing him hard enough to bust open his bottom lip.

Bokuto lets out a gasp, and falls back.

“What-“

“ _You._ ” Tsukishima kisses him, hard through blood, and shakes, “ _You-“_

_“Shh!”_

_You….”_ Tsukishima’s voice wavers, and it sounds nothing like him at all. He sniffs, “You…”

“Is everyone okay?” Kuroo sits up, looking between them all. Their hearts are still beating impossibly fast.

“No.” Tsukishima says, “Bokuto, he- he was gonna-“

Bokuto can read his mind, it seems, for he smiles and says, “I’d do anything to keep you guys safe. You know that.”

Tsukishima just kisses him again, trembling.

Akaashi rolls onto his back and lets out a heavy breath. He turns to Kuroo; Kuroo, who had immediately grabbed him and held him safe.

They don’t go back to sleep that night. Instead they huddle together, silently, as the adrenaline eventually slows.

* * *

 

“Well.” Bokuto says, first thing in the morning, “That fucking sucked.”

“No shit.” Kuroo laughs, running a hand through his bed head, looking around the campsite. Their cooler has been tipped over, half the contents on the dirt floor- thank god for individual packaging.

 “Did she dig through our food bag?”

“No.” Akaashi crouches, squinting in the early sun, “It’s still closed.”

“Thank god.”

“I don’t see any other damage.” Tsukishima says, “It looks like the only thing she ate was…”

“-the hotdogs.” Bokuto laughs, and leans down to pick up a package, “Although, she left the vegan ones. That was so thoughtful of her.”

“She has good taste.” Akaashi mumbles, and earns laughter from the other three. He turns to look at them- sleepy eyes, ruffled hair, baggy sweatpants and all. They’re all so adorable- even in their exhaustion.

None of them slept a wink last night.

Akaashi, suddenly, begins to laugh.

He doubles over where he stands, a hand braced up against the picnic table, and _giggles._ He covers his mouth with his free hand, and tears well in his eyes.

“H-holy shit.” He laughs, squeezing his eyes shut, his stomach aching, “Ahaah- holy, shit-“

“Woah.” Bokuto stands up, blinking.

“We broke Akaashi.”

“N-no, it’s-“ He laughs, and wipes at his eyes, “It’s just, ahaha-“

“Baby, use your words.” Kuroo coos, and Akaashi laughs harder.

“We’re so lame-“ Akaashi laughs, “- w-we fight like three year o-olds, and t-then we f-fucking huddle together all n-night because a d-damn bear came and ate our h-ahaha- hot dogs-“ His legs nearly give out, and he snorts, so unlike himself.

Bokuto is the first to start giggling- then Kuroo, and lastly Tsukishima, covering his mouth with his free hand.

“You’re right.” Bokuto cackles, “We’re hella’ lame.”

“Probably the lamest.”

“Oh god, my sides hurt.”

“Bokuto was going to fight that fucking bear with his fists.”

“He was gonna’ meet her in the fuckin’ pit.”

“I-ahah- I was! I was gonna’ do it.” 

They laugh more, freely, in the silence of the forest. Akaashi begins to hiccup, and his lungs ache. As their laughter slows, Akaashi feels like a new person. The ache in his back from the mattress- the sleep in his eyes- that tarry sludge in his stomach- it’s gone, now.

“Fuck, man.” Kuroo smiles, sliding down to sit in his camp chair, “This trip was a disaster.”

“Not really.” Tsukishima says, surprisingly, a rare smile still in place, “We learned that bears don’t like vegan hotdogs.”

“ _Goddammit!_ ” Akaashi laughs, because he thought he was _done_ laughing- but he can’t stop, and neither can his lovers, and that’s perfectly fine.

* * *

 

Bokuto finally gets his wish; they gather by the lakeside, where the rocks are smooth enough to set up chairs, and the drop is deep enough to cast their lines.

Tsukishima couldn’t care less about fishing- instead he curls up with a book- one he’s been _trying_ to read all trip- and makes his way through the bag of trail mix Akaashi started yesterday.

Kuroo, also, has given up completely on his fishing line. He instead has stolen Akaashi’s sketchbook, and sits in his camp chair, his knee being used as a makeshift table. Kuroo is interesting, in that way- in the way that he’s seemingly good at everything, and nothing. His mind is so smart- and the way he draws is smart, too. He doesn’t draw circles as an outline- he doesn’t sketch tiny lines, and then erase, and erase, until both eyes match. He just _draws-_ he draws what he sees, in his own art style, and it’s always a blessing to watch him.

But Akaashi is watching the lake instead. His fishing pole rests against his inner thigh lazily, his thumb brushing over the metal spool. The lake is calm, and they probably won’t catch anything, but Akaashi doesn’t mind the sun, and the company.

“Do you think Bob Ross is okay?” Bokuto asks, seriously.

“Daichi is taking good care of him, I’m sure.”

“You know,” Tsukishima doesn’t look up from his book, “I get to name the next animal we get.”

“Nuh-huh.” Kuroo cuts, “It’s _my_ turn.”

“No, you named the fish.”

“B-but, I thought we _all_ decided on Scrotie.”

“No, we most definitely did not.”

“Okay, well, fine.” Kuroo pouts, still scribbling in Akaashi’s sketchbook, “ _You_ can name the next frog.”

“Yeah!” Bokuto smiles, “Bob Ross is probably lonely.”

“What would you name him?” Akaashi asks.

“Um…I’m not sure.”

Bokuto gasps, suddenly, “Oh! Oh! I know.”

“No-“  

“ _Dat Boi~”_

 _“Ayyeee!”_ Kuroo yells, and they both laugh, stupidly, as they high-five.

“I fucking hate both of you.” Tsukishima lifts up his book with emphasis, “As soon as we get home I’m selling myself on eBay.”

“Pfff.” Kuroo jokes, “Good luck trying to get someone to bid higher than five dollars.”

Tsukishima closes his book with a snap, and leans over to whack Kuroo’s arm. The latter laughs, lifting up his arm to shield himself, “No-ahah,- I’m sorry!”

“Shhh!” Bokuto hushes, “You’re gonna’ scare off all the fish!”

“They’re gone anyways.” Tsukishima says, and hits Kuroo again, “Kuroo’s bad breath scared them off.”

Kuroo gasps, “ _Tsukki._ I’m _very_ anal about my dental hygiene, thank you. I’ll have you know that my breath smells like a winter’s day.”

“It smells like the inside of Bokuto’s shoe.”

“Hey!”

“Hey!!”

The elders bark simultaneously, and then laugh. Kuroo leans across the distance between the chairs to breathe in Tsukishima’s personal bubble, and the latter uses his book to thump Kuroo on the head.

“Oh.” Akaashi suddenly pipes,  and pulls back on his fishing pole. It tugs, and Akaashi reels back, pulling it in, the wire hissing.

Bokuto sucks in a deep gasp, “Akaashi! Did you get one?!”

“I  don’t-“ Akaashi reels, “-know.” He pulls, and pulls, until a small fish wiggles on the end of his line, squirming around in the air.

“Holy shit.” Kuroo blinks, “You got one.”

Akaashi brings the fish up and examines it. It’s not very large, but it squirms around unhappily.

“Quick.” Akaashi says, “Someone name it.” 

“Uhh...True Jackson V.P.!”

“Spike Spiegel!”

“Shigeru Miyamoto.”

“You guys are so unoriginal.” Akaashi breathes out a laugh, his arms flexing to keep the rod upright. He really didn’t bring fishing clothes- he’s still in a crop top and high waisted shorts- not exactly fishing material, but whatever, he looks cute.

“Oh man.” Kuroo grins, and hoots in a fake accent, “We gon’ eat good tonight boys.”

Tsukishima squints, his glasses sliding down his nose a little, “I am _not_ eating that.”

“Neither am I.” Akaashi says, bringing the fish into reach, and unhooking him as safely as he can, “Say goodbye to Spike Miyamoto VP.”

“Goodbye, friend.” Bokuto waves, “May the force be with you.”

Akaashi tosses the fish back into the water, and it squirms away, back with its friends.

“Speaking of eating,” Tsukishima begins, “I’m hungry.”

“We have vegan hotdogs?”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, oh.” Bokuto reaches for his little snack bag, “Here, I brought a few things.”

“I love you.” Tsukishima says, and trades the almond-less bag of trail mix for the snack bag.

Akaashi wipes his fishy hands off on the back of Bokuto’s shirt, and funny enough, Bokuto couldn’t care less. He just stares back into the water, where some ducks paddle around, happy as can be. Akaashi can’t help but smile at the pure, innocent expression on his face.

Bokuto is so precious, and should be protected at all costs. He works so hard, and smiles _just_ for them, always. He’s so supportive and kind and he deserves to be happy.

So Akaashi shuffles his chair closer, and sets his fishing pole on the ground, leaning to rest his cheek on Bokuto's shoulder. He can see Kuroo pick up his sketchbook again and begin to draw. He feels a head turn, and a kiss press against the top of his head, and Akaashi smiles.

All is okay, for a moment. No bears, no rain, no pranks- just the sun, and the breeze off the lake water.

The peace lasts longer than Akaashi expected- but not long enough, in his opinion. Bokuto jumps, jostling Akaashi off his shoulder.

“ _What_  are you doing?” Bokuto stares across to Tsukishima, who’s sitting harmlessly in his chair, blinking at Bokuto.

“What?”

“ _What have you done?_ ” Bokuto points to his hands, where a half-eaten cheese stick rests.

“Uhh.” Tsukishima blinks, “Was this special, or something?”

Kuroo looks up- and suddenly shouts, “ _Kei!”_

“ _What?_ ”

“You come in my house?” Kuroo points, “You eat my food? And you disrespect me like this?”

It takes Akaashi a moment to understand what’s going on; Tsukishima has, innocently so, taken a few bites out of his string cheese, rather than peeling it.

“Seriously?” Tsukishima takes another bite, “Like it matters?”

“Of _course_ it matters!”

“It’s not called _string cheese_ for shits and giggles, Tsukki. That’s like…that’s like taking a bite out of an orange like a goddamn apple.”

“It takes too long.” Tsukishima chews, “I don’t have the patience.”

“ _It’s not fucking rocket science.”_ Kuroo cries, “This is just…this is just blasphemy.”

Akaashi sighs, and rests his head in his hand- this situation isn’t even worth his response.

“Have you…” Bokuto squints, “…have you always eaten it like this?”

“Yeah?”

Bokuto clutches his chest, and Kuroo pretends to cry- the damn drama queens.

Kuroo sniffs, “Please…tell me…how do you eat Kit Kats?”

Tsukishima looks up from his book, “I dunno? I just bite into them.”

“L-like a sandwich?”

“Yeah?”

“No.” Bokuto stands, his chair sliding back, “No- _no,_ this is- this is preposterous- this is sacrilegious- this is saxicolous! This is parsimonious!”

“Koutarou, you’re just saying random words.”

“This is gregarious!”

“Kou, please.”

“You gotta’ draw the line in the sand, dude.” Bokuto recites, “You gotta’ draw the line in the _fucking sand._ ”

“Okay, but seriously.” Tsukishima rests his forearm on the back of the camp chair, “You’re not allowed to talk shit, considering the way you pour your cereal.”

“But!-“

Akaashi interupts, “We are _not_ having this argument _again._ ”

The comedic shouting stops, and they slump back into their camp chairs; Bokuto giggles a little, as does Kuroo, and Tsukishima hides his smile behind his book.

“Fine.” Bokuto huffs, “How about this. _I’ll_ pour my cereal the boring way, if you eat string cheese like a normal human being.”

Tsukishima seems to think about this long, and hard, before he beings to peal what’s left of his cheese stick, and says, “Deal.”

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, when his lovers turn in for a snuggly nap, Akaashi gets the opportunity to see what Kuroo was drawing.

He’s not really thinking about it at first- he just picks up the book, thinking that maybe now would be the time to finish up his work assignment- but his book falls open to Kuroo’s sketch.

He realizes, suddenly, that Kuroo had drawn them.

It looks beautiful in his weirdly artistic artstyle; he managed to capture the little pout on Tsukishima’s lips as he’s sucked in a book- he can see the curls of his blonde hair and the sweet beauty marks beneath his chin. Bokuto is leaning forwards in his camp chair, staring gorgeously out on the lake, the water reflecting in his eyes. _Fuck_ Kuroo is so talented- Akaashi can almost feel the warmth on Bokuto’s cheeks- he can feel the muscles stretching under the sketched shirt.

He looks, then, and sees himself. Akaashi is curled up in his camp chair, smiling softly, gazing at Bokuto out of the corner of his eye, and – _fuck,_ that means that he was painfully obvious the entire time – long enough for Kuroo to draw him perfectly. Damn.

There’s a sleepy call from the tent door, “Babe, you coming?”

Akaashi turns to Kuroo, and nods, smiling. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” He looks to the sketchbook, “You saw that, huh. Didja like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Akaashi says seriously, and gets the pleasure of catching Kuroo off guard for once.

“Ahh, aha, thank you.” His face flushes for but a moment, before he smirks, “I couldn’t resist. You’re all so hot, you know?’

“Mmm.” Akaashi hums, “I know.” He crosses the distance to the tent, following him inside. Tsukishima is already passed out in Bokuto’s arms, his long legs peeking out beneath the blankets, his glasses tucked neatly where they won’t be crushed. Bokuto is curled around him, like a happy dog.

“Cute.” Akaashi thinks aloud, and Kuroo laughs.

“They are.”

“We can’t sleep too long, or we’ll never sleep tonight.” Akaashi yawns, settling down atop Kuroo’s chest.  

“Shh, s’ fine.” Kuroo mumbles- and it is fine, actually. Kuroo is warm, and his breathing is steady. A hand rises to press into his lower back, fingertips dragging up the ridges of his spine. Bokuto gives a little snore to his right, and Akaashi smiles into Kuroo’s neck. The fingertips draw soothing circles, until Akaashi doses off, and doesn’t wake until he hears the calming pops of the campfire that night.

* * *

 

“Oh, this is so rad.” Bokuto says with a mouth full.  “Who’s idea was this?”

“Mine.” Akaashi answers, “You’re welcome.”

“Babe, I love you.”

“Same.” Tsukishima nods, and pokes his banana boat with his stick. They’re just bananas, sliced open and filled with chocolate, then wrapped in tinfoil, and set in the fire to bake. Once they’re unwrapped, they’re toasty, and chocolatey, and full of delicious calories.

“I could eat like, ten of these.”

“I wouldn’t be that surprised if you did.”

Kuroo gives a little laugh, but continues to strum at his guitar. He hasn’t gotten to play it much since they first arrived, but now he provides nice background music, strumming songs he has memorized. He uses a capo to keep the pitch, his skilled fingers thrumming.

Akaashi thinks, maybe, when he’s stressed, despite everything- he’ll think of this trip. He’ll think of the way the firelight flickers against Tsukishima’s glasses- he’ll think about the way Kuroo’s fingers sooths over the guitar- he’ll think about the way Bokuto laughs, snuggled into Kuroo’s side.

Yeah. When Akaashi’s stressed, he’ll think about this.

“So.” Kuroo grins, “What’s it gonna’ take to get you guys to sing?”  

“Oh!” Bokuto grins, “I love singing.”

“Yes, I know, and you’re amazing.” Kuroo coos, “But I was hoping for my lovely little backup singers.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, and Akaashi snorts, “Yeah, right.”

“Ahaha.” Kuroo smiles, “It was worth a try.”

Tsukishima and Akaashi share a single look, but turn back to Bokuto, when they realize that he’s managed to catch the tip of his shoe on fire. He gasps, digging it into the dirt, and extinguishing the flame.

“Koutarou.” Akaashi glowers, “Be careful.”

“I am careful! It’s not my fault I’m this hot.”

“Pff.” Kuroo snorts, and earns a little pinch from Bokuto, his fingers jittering across the guitar. Akaashi bites back a smile, and turns back to his banana boat.

The forest is silent, and has been kind to them. There’s no bear cries- at least, from what Akaashi can hear. Really, all he can hear is the fire, and Kuroo’s guitar. They’ve fallen into a comfortable silence, and Akaashi suddenly recognizes the riff Kuroo is playing. It’s soft, and familiar.

He repeats the rift a few times, circling through the song, humming, happy as can be. Kuroo’s face is so pretty- his hair is a disaster from the whole camping experience, but he still manages to pull it off somehow.

Akaashi is torn from his thoughts when he realizes that Tsukishima has begun to sing.

It’s low, and soft, but audible nonetheless. Kuroo and Bokuto simultaneously gasp, but do well to keep their mouths shut.

_In the morning when I wake  
And the sun is coming through_

He mumbles the lyrics probably out of habit, but even in his lowered tone, his voice sounds wonderful.

_Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,  
And you fill my head with you._

Tsukishima looks shy, despite his voice so clear and crisp- so Akaashi can’t help but sing too, just to calm Tsukishima’s nerves. They harmonize, as if they do it every day.  
  
_Shall I write it in a letter?  
Shall I try to get it down?_

Tsukishima looks surprised, but doesn’t let up, his arms locked around his legs, his eyes sparkling. Akaashi smiles as he sings-

  
_Oh, you fill my head with pieces_  
_Of a song I can't get out._  
  
_Can I be close to you?_  
  
Bokuto and Kuroo grin- as if the surprise has worn off- and they join in, their voices harmonizing quite well for the chorus. Once it ends, the elders take to humming, happily, as their lovers sing in the peace of the forest, without the fear of judgement.  
  
_Can I take it to a morning_  
_Where the fields are painted gold_  
 _And the trees are filled with memories_  
 _Of the feelings never told_  
  
_When the evening pulls the sun down,_  
And the day is almost through,  
_Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,_

_But my world is you._

This is almost too much and not enough, at the same time. Tsukishima’s eyes are glued to the fire, but he sings more confidently, now with Akaashi- now as Bokuto and Kuroo harmonize shamelessly.

  
_Can I be close to you?_

This song used to play all the time on the way to work. So much so, that Kuroo picked up his guitar one day, and learned it just for fun. His fingers thrum without mistake, his smile soft.

Hilariously enough, they know the song so well, that as soon as the chorus ends, they all begin to whistle- it spurs on laughter, Bokuto bending over to giggle, because they were _so_ in sync, it was ridiculous.

Akaashi expects some kind of snarky comment- Tsukishima does too- but they get none.

Only smiles, and banana boats, and guitar riffs, and campfire smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloom- By the Paper Kites


	4. Chapter 4

They wake early in the morning.

Well, Akaashi has _been_ awake.

Tsukishima is stirring at his side, none too happy – probably for the same reason.

“What the hell?” Tsukishima rubs his eyes, and twists over to press his face into the junction of Akaashi’s shoulder and his throat. It’s warm, his breath huffing across his skin as Tsukishima breathes, “Seriously?”

Akaashi can only smile, silently, as Kuroo snores on.

“Am I that bad?” Bokuto asks, sliding up behind Akaashi to speak in his hair.

“Yes.” They say together, and Bokuto laughs.

“Sorry.”

Tsukishima mumbles, “Tetsurou doesn’t usually snore though.”

“It must be the altitude.”

“At least we go home today.” Bokuto shrugs, warm, strong hands wiggling beneath the blankets to thumb at Akaashi’s side. He moves in small circles, hip to rib, then back.

“Thank goodness, I’m fuckin’ exhausted.” Tsukishima mumbles, “Didn’t sleep at all ‘cause of old McRespiratory Infection over here.”

Akaashi lets out a laugh at that, squeezing Tsukishima closer to his chest.

Kuroo lets out another snore. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Bokuto grins, leaning up on his forearms. “I have an idea.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow, “The last time you had an idea we got in a fight.”

“Yeah, okay, but...this time it’ll be super funny.”

Akaashi and Tsukishima share one long look, before they shrug. Ah, what the hell? They drive home today anyways.

* * *

 

Akaashi _cannot_ stop fucking laughing.

“ _Shh!”_ Bokuto laughs too, as they drag the blow up mattress out of the tent. Tsukishima is at his side, tugging with him, his face turning red from holding back laughter.

Akaashi can’t even help; he just presses a hand to his mouth as his eyes water over. Kuroo is _passed out-_ he’s drooling a little bit, and continues to snore, even as Tsukishima almost drops his corner of the mattress on accident.

“Kei!” Bokuto laughs, in a forced whisper, “Be careful!”

“S-sorry-ahah-“ Tsukishima bites his tongue and grins, pulling Kuroo towards the lake. Kuroo lets out another snore, and Akaashi doubles over in silent laughter.

They get all the way to the shore, a long trail of smooth dirt behind them from the mattress. Kuroo stirs; they all freeze. He turns over, lets out another snore, and goes back to sleep.

Bokuto and Tsukishima share a long look, before they _softly_ grip the mattress again, and pull him towards the water. It takes a few tugs to push him in, but the air mattress catches on the lake, and floats away.

Bokuto lets out a choked, high pitched squeak of a laugh, and Tsukishima snorts adorably, laughing as Kuroo sails off.

Bokuto sings, “Yo-ho Yo-ho a pirate’s life for me~.”

Akaashi laughs more, this time loud, his lungs aching.

There’s the sound of a choked off snore- and then a gasp. They watch through tears as Kuroo sits up in the mattress, completely flabbergasted. His eyes snap open, and his body jolts as he looks around him; his mattress floats calmly on the water.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Kuroo barks, now _very_ awake.

 

“Good morning baby.” Tsukishima coos from the shore. His hands raise to propel his voice, “Going for a swim?”

Akaashi and Bokuto giggle, supporting each other, watching as Kuroo’s makeshift raft floats beyond his control. It bobs a little with each small wave of the lake.

“Oh my god!” Kuroo half laughs, “You guys are assholes!”

“Kuroo Tetsurou, Captain of the U.S.S. Bedhead.”

 “He goes where no man has gone before.”

“I can hear you guys making fun of me!” Kuroo shouts, as he floats away, laughing despite himself.

Kuroo looks around him, and Akaashi watches the wheels turn in his head as he tries to figure a way out. He bites his lower lip and sticks his hands in the cold water, desperately trying to row himself to land. All he does is spin in a little circle, and float farther away.

“Swim, babe!”

“No way! It’s so cold!”

He tries to paddle his way to shore, but his raft does eventually flip, Kuroo tumbling into the water. He rises, sputtering, cursing them to kingdom come as his clothes soak in the cold.

They laugh and laugh, but do await him by the water with a warm towel and open arms.

Kuroo is a good sport; he laughs it off, punches Bokuto in the shoulder because he _knows_ it was his idea- and demands generous amounts of hot chocolate.

* * *

 

It’s still the asscrack of dawn, so as soon as Kuroo is dressed warmly, they wash their muddy hands and snuggle back in the tent. Bokuto fishes the mattress out of the lake, pants rolled up to his knees, before crawling into the tent as well.

Kuroo’s teeth chatter consistently, even with hot chocolate down his throat. With each passing moment, the little pit in Akaashi’s stomach grows. Kuroo doesn’t complain; he just huddles in the blankets, teeth chattering, toes curling, watching with a smile as Tsukishima and Bokuto huddle together.

Another moment passes, and Akaashi can’t stand himself.

He crawls up to him, wraps his arms around Kuroo’s neck and breathes, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” Kuroo grins, and lifts the blanket to pull Akaashi in, “Jus’ a lil’ chilled.”

“ _Babe._ ” He sniffs, “I’m sorry. It was just a joke.”

“It’s fine! It was pretty funny.” Kuroo hugs him close. Akaashi wiggles atop him, the blankets sliding down his back, as he uses all his body heat to warm him. They only have one mattress now, the other drying out in the morning sun, but Kuroo’s chest is broad, and it makes a lovely pillow. Akaashi’s head rises with every breath he takes, but it’s comforting, in a sense. He loves this chest, and the person attached to it as well.

“Is he still cold?” Tsukishima asks, pressing closer. Bokuto slips around to the other side, sandwiching Kuroo in a body pile.

“God, your arms are freezing.”

“M’ fine.” Kuroo purrs, especially happy now that Akaashi is nuzzling into the side of his neck, hair tickling his cheek. Akaashi is the best snuggler, always worming his way between bodies, warm fingers pressing up into cool skin. Sometimes you won’t even notice him there, he’s so quiet. Tsukishima learned that the hard way – specifically the day Akaashi snuck into his bed without warning, and scared the living daylights out of him.

Tsukishima hums, hands lazily reaching beneath the hem of Kuroo’s shirt, dragging his nails up and around his hip bone. The birds are waking now, chittering up above their tent.

For a moment they’re content to breathe, Kuroo’s teeth still softly chattering, Bokuto humming to fill the silence.

All it takes is one, single, soft press of Akaashi’s lips against Kuroo’s neck for the mood to change.

Electricity sparks between them, all so knowingly, with the soft smack of his lips as he pulls away. Akaashi presses another kiss, this time lower, down beneath his adam's apple; he can feel the way Kuroo swallows – he can feel the chest beneath him suck in a soft breath. Kuroo’s skin is smooth and salty, but it tastes so familiar, so nice that Akaashi kisses down to his shoulder, tugging his collar out of the way.

Tsukishima goes in for the kill, leaning up on his forearms to suck out Kuroo’s soul through his lips.

The teeth chattering stops, at least.

Akaashi kisses down his throat, down, down to the hem of his shirt. He looks up and sees blonde hair, dipping with every kiss.

Kuroo and Tsukishima look beautiful together; they always have. A true Yin and Yang they are, black and gold, strong and soft.

Their mouths press together, open, their lips unmoving- it looks awkward, at first, but Akaashi sees tongues slow, and languid. Tsukishima uses the leverage to his advantage, looming over him, coaxing his tongue into Kuroo’s mouth – but Kuroo is anything but pliant, slipping his tongue back to skim his teeth across Tsukishima’s lower lip. It’s a messy style of kissing, a little slobbery, but Tsukishima brings a sense of refinement that can only be described as _Tsukishima._ He licks the spit off Kuroo’s cheek; he sighs into the kiss, and Akaashi bites back a noise. _Goddamn_ they’re beautiful, and such a fucking turn on it hurts.

“I swear.” Akaashi mumbles into Kuroo’s shoulder, as he tugs at the collar, “If I don’t ride _something_ before this trip ends, I’m suing.”

His lovers laugh; Bokuto especially. He prods at Akaashi’s shoulder, smiling, kissing him as Akaashi looks his way, sweet and warm. Bokuto is always sweet and warm – it’s in his genetic makeup. They kiss once, twice, before Bokuto pulls back with a grin, and prods a bottle into his hand, “Get ready, then.”

“Oh! Oh!” Kuroo grins, “Is it me? Can it be? Can I volunteer as tribute?”

Tsukishima breathes out a laugh through his nose, and cuts him off again, mouth keeping him occupied. Kuroo’s arms rise to pull at blonde hair- his legs spreading against Akaashi’s thighs.

 Bokuto makes quick work to push Kuroo’s shirt to his collarbone, and kiss down to his bellybutton. Kuroo jolts, gently gasping into Tsukishima’s mouth.

They dumped Kuroo in a freezing lake at five in the morning; this is the least they can do.

Kuroo’s body is smooth, usually smoother with the help of consistent showers and ridiculous amounts of body butter, but he’s still wonderfully soft, and a delight to lick and kiss and bite. Kuroo squirms and wiggles beneath them – he’d usually complain – but he’s surprisingly pliant, happy to pant against Tsukishima’s lips, and wriggle under Bokuto’s love bites.

Akaashi is quick to kick off his pants, tossing them into an empty corner of the tent. He straddles Kuroo’s hips, takes the lube, and worms a finger into himself, the angle hard but doable. This is all the lube they’ve got left, so he’ll have to make do. He grits his teeth and forces the finger in further, horribly impatient – especially with Tsukishima and Kuroo making out so heavily – _especially_ with the weight of Bokuto’s eyes. Tsukishima looks up at Akaashi and nearly chokes, arms tensing by Kuroo’s head, hips grinding into the edge of the mattress.

“Just one?” Bokuto looks up, cheek against Kuroo’s chest, “You can do better than that.”

Akaashi huffs, hid eyes watering, half-hard against his thigh. He squirms a second finger, and then a third. The tent warms, and warms, with breath and effort.

Bokuto, the cheeky bastard, smiles, “There we go.” He wiggles down, and shoves Kuroo’s clean pants off his ass, just enough to wrap his lips around the head of his cock and suck. Typically Kuroo is the puppetmaster – he who commands the bedroom – but Bokuto has learned, and learned well.

Kuroo jolts, suddenly, ripping away from Tsukishima’s mouth and grunting, “Fuck.”

Akaashi huffs, sliding back to give Bokuto more room, stretching himself quickly because _dammit_ he really, really wants to be full of _something_ other than his own fingers right now. Bokuto is making these really lewd slurping sounds, and it shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. Bokuto’s hand works around what’s not in his mouth, and his eyes close because he _enjoys_ it. Nobody, uh, complains about Bokuto’s big mouth anymore. They haven’t in years.

Tsukishima is relatively quiet, which works to his advantage as he sneaks up to Kuroo’s ear and licks behind it, watching him squeak and thrust into Bokuto’s mouth.

Bokuto, of course, wouldn’t gag if you shoved a damn hand down his throat, so he takes it happily.

“ _Fuck, fhh-shit-_ “ Kuroo grits, squirming, the hand in Tsukishima’s hair lethal, “Wh-what the hell-“

“Move, move.” Akaashi pats Bokuto’s head, “I’m ready, let me-“

Bokuto pops off Kuroo and grins, eyes flickering up, “You’re an eager beaver today, aren’t you?”

“I’m too hard right now to respond to that.” Akaashi replies walking on his knees to hover above Kuroo’s dick. Tsukishima snickers against Kuroo’s ear, and sits up to watch as Akaashi grips him by the base and sinks down, little by little, gritting out every curse and praise under the sun.

Bokuto just snuggles into Kuroo’s right side, twisting a hand beneath his shorts, happy to enjoy the view.

“ _God._ ” Kuroo grits, hips driving up; he bottoms out as his heels dig into the mattress, “I should fall in l-lakes more nhh, o-often.”

“You’re warm now.” Akaashi pants. His head is tipped back, hands gripping the thighs behind him. Kuroo breathes out a laugh, and clasps the edge of the blow up mattress behind his head for leverage.

Akaashi swivels his hips in little figure eights, huffing out breaths, a pink flush reaching behind his ears. Still, he’s practically _glowing_ with smugness, because yes, fucking _yes._ Kuroo was born for sex; his body always moves with you, rather than against you, so riding him is always a goddamn dream.

Akaashi rises up on his knees, and falls back down, a heavy work, but a work he’s willing to do. Their skin slaps, and they both gasp, backs arching, hands clawing.

Bokuto still works himself beneath his shorts, smirking wildly, eyes flickering between Akaashi and Kuroo. He looks to Tsukishima, who’s been particularly quiet. Bokuto notices, with a grin, that Tsukishima is eyeing Akaashi’s dick like a prize to be won, flushed against his skin, bobbing with every bounce.

Bokuto laughs, “Just do it, baby.”

Tsukishima hums, “But two blowjobs in one week? That’s so unlike me.”

“What?” Akaashi grits out, but doesn’t get an answer, as Tsukishima leans across Kuroo’s chest and pulls Akaashi’s cock against his lips.

He nearly sobs, eyes widening, black hair flopping to his forehead as he bottoms out, and doesn’t move.

“ _Shit!”_ Akaashi and Kuroo curse together, as Akaashi stays still; Tsukishima wiggles his tongue. Kuroo’s cock slides _just_ right, and Akaashi’s body jolts, fire sparking from the base of his neck, and down to the pit of his stomach.

“Keep going.” Tsukishima coos, mouthing against already wet skin. He leans off his left arm, and uses that hand to feel where Akaashi and Kuroo are connected. Kuroo lets out this needy little moan, and Akaashi slowly comes back to planet earth. He nods, rising up again, and falling down. It’s hot, it’s hot-

Tsukishima hums, slithering back, using his hand to pump Akaashi as he rides.

“He’s doing good.” Bokuto observes, a little breathy, a little close.

“He’s always good.” Tsukishima says, and twists his hand – Akaashi bites back a cry, his face so beautiful, even with sweat sticking to his hair.  

They’re such a mess; such a twisted bed of limbs. They kiss who they want, when they want – they worm hands in pants and watch and listen and kiss and bite and it’s _such_ a mess.

But they’re warm.

Kuroo especially, as he comes so fucking hard that he thinks he might die, right hand gripping Bokuto’s hair like a vice, crying a mantra of _Keiji, Keiji, Keiji-_ Akaashi tumbling after. He can feel three sets of eyes on him as he sobs; he carves little half-moons into Kuroo’s thighs – his body shivers and trembles.

They become even more of a disaster, especially when Bokuto rolls over and grips Tsukishima by the hair, shoving his hand down Tsukishima’s pants so hard that gold eyes roll back.

* * *

 

They should, technically, be packing – but it’s bright, and sunny, and now mid-day. They’re almost out of food; they’ll drive through McDonalds when they get off the mountain, but right now they enjoy all the leftover snacks, and each other. The campfire isn’t lit, but they still gather around it on the wood log benches.

Kuroo is in a _different_ pair of clean clothes now, his hair in ruin, but Tsukishima nuzzles his face into it contently. Kuroo lets out a yawn, and Tsukishima slaps his arm.

“You’re not allowed to be sleepy.”

“What? Why? You guys dumped me in a _lake_ and then fucked the hell out of me.”

Bokuto chews, “Because, you’re the only one who got some sleep around here.”

“I already said I was sorry!”

“We know.” Akaashi says, “Still, you’re driving.”

“Well that’s a given.” Kuroo states. His arm around Tsukishima’s shoulder tightens, “You guys are shit drivers.”

Bokuto huffs, “Nuh huh! I’m an awesome driver.”

“Yeah, maybe if this was Die Hard.”  

“I’ve got places to be, man.” Bokuto says, “Ain’t got time for stopping at a yellow light.”

“I rest my case.”

Akaashi speaks up, a little offended, if that, “Well, I’m a fine driver.”

“Baby, one time you stopped for a pigeon in the road.”

“I wasn’t going to run it over!”

“You stopped traffic! For a pigeon!”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

Kuroo presses his face into his hand, and lets out a hefty sigh. Tsukishima just leans back and snickers.

“I know I’m a bad driver.” Tsukishima picks through the very last of the Chex Mix, “I’m not even going to lie to myself.”

Bokuto laughs, “You have the worst road rage I’ve ever seen.”

“Fucking shitheads better get out of my way.”

The free laughter mixes well with the birds singing up in the trees. They finish the snacks, but don’t move, feeling particularly lazy and tired. The conversation lulls down, but it’s quite pleasant. Bokuto is drawing these little circles on the inside of Akaashi’s thigh, and it feels _super_ nice.

Tsukishima, surprisingly, speaks up.

“I don’t want to go home.”

A pause.

“Did you just say that?” Kuroo turns, eyebrows to the sky, “Did that actually come out of your mouth?”

“Yes.” He answers, digging the tip of his shoe into the dirt, “Let’s just live here.”

“Are you the real Kei?”

“ _Yes._ ” He snaps, “Shut up.”

“Why?” Akaashi asks gently.

“It’s easy here.” Tsukishima shrugs, “Besides the dirt, and the bugs, and Kuroo’s snoring. There’s nothing else to worry about.”

Kuroo presses his nose against Tsukishima’s cheek and smiles against his ear, “Aww, baby. We can always come back.”

“I don’t want to go back to work.” Bokuto admits, “I’ve had a lot of fun here.”

“I agree. It’s been nice.” Akaashi leans his head against Bokuto’s shoulder, “But we’ll be back.”

“Yeah! This is our new tradition!”

Bokuto beams, and beams- Kuroo coos at him from across the unlit campfire, _cute cute, you’re so cute-_

Tsukishima’s worried look lightens – the stress in his shoulders bleeds out, and he too joins Kuroo in the coddling.

* * *

 

“Fuck, shit. Okay, just- no _no_ just- fold it like that.”

“Hotdog or hamburger?”

“Uh, panini?”

“This isn’t working.” Akaashi observes, watching as three grown ass men try to fold a tent back into the bag.

Tsukishima huffs, “Well why don’t you try and help us?”

“Because I can’t bend in these shorts, they’ll rip.” Akaashi replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Maybe we can just…leave it.” Bokuto looks at the half-folded mess of the tent, and sighs.

“I’ll just strap it to the roof of the car and deal with it later.”

“It’ll _break._ We rented this, remember?”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t lost the _directions-_ “

Akaashi nibbles on the inside of his cheek, and eyes the campsite. _Everything_ is packed, besides this damn tent.

“Wait.” Akaashi blinks, “Try…try turning it.”

Tsukishima pauses. He twists the tent clockwise, and then counterclockwise. It takes him a moment, but it does eventually fold. Bokuto and Kuroo help shove it in the bag; it isn’t pretty, but it’s good enough.

“My hero!” Bokuto cheers, hands above his head.

“How ironic.” Kuroo laughs, “This entire trip, Tsukishima and Akaashi have been the serious MVP’s. We’ve been outdone, Kou.”  

Bokuto laughs with him. He wiggles up behind Tsukishima to worm his hands into his back pockets, and squeeze. 

* * *

 

The car ride is… oddly sweet. Tsukishima digs through the glove compartment and finds an old Hall and Oates CD; the decent down the mountain is accompanied by _Maneater_ and _Private Eyes._

Akaashi thumbs through Kuroo’s camera as he drives, Bokuto asleep at his side. Half the pictures are blurry – the other half are of flowers, and trees, and other nonsense – but there are a few good ones. A couple pictures of Bokuto walking along the path of the hike. One of Kuroo and Bo atop the mountain. A shot of Tsukishima curled up in the camp chair – different shots of Akaashi around the campsite, typically sleepy and blurry eyed.

It’s disgustingly sentimental, but Akaashi can’t help the big ugly bubble of affection in his chest.

He looks up to Kuroo; messy hair, eyes on the road, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Tsukishima is next to him, eyes turned to the trees that line the road, head resting against the window, glasses occasionally clacking with the jumbling of the car.

So Akaashi falls asleep like that, the soft 80’s lyrics of _you're out of touch, I'm out of time_ vibrating through the speakers.

 

* * *

 

They come back the next year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayy!!! here's a bit thanks to mal, for her amazing art ^^ this was so fun ,,,,
> 
> also thanks for reading guys :0)

**Author's Note:**

> check us out on tumblr ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> hannah- [zanimez](http://zanimez.tumblr.com/)
> 
> mal- [screamingshark](http://screamingshark.tumblr.com/)


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